Family Photos
by Bellairian
Summary: When she received a camera for Christmas, Jane told Phryne she was the new family photographer. Over the years Jane took many photos of her daughter and her parents and their extended family. Imagine the chapters in this story are loose photographs jumbled in a box.
1. Ch 1 - The Little Cab Driver

_Just like pulling loose photographs out of a box, the chapters in this story will not be in any particular order, ___chronological or otherwise._ The photo in this chapter is from The French Photograph._

xoxox

_It's 1949. Jane's daughter Elizabeth is four years old. _

Jane knew Elizabeth would ask to play one of her favorite games – pretending to drive Bert's old cab – when they arrived at Phryne and Jack's home and Bert turned off the engine. Jane suspected it was one of Bert's favorite games too since he rarely turned down an opportunity to spend time with the youngest member of the family.

As expected, Elizabeth exclaimed "Mummy, I want to stay with Bert and drive the cab!" as her mother helped her out of the back seat.

"Don't you worry, Jane, I won't let her drive off by herself," Bert assured Jane with a wink, just as he always did.

Jane checked her watch. It was almost lunchtime, but there was enough time to let Elizabeth play and lunch would serve as the reason to get her _out_ of the cab without any fuss.

She winked back at Bert, just as she always did. "I'll be back in about 15 minutes to collect my little cab driver," she said and gathered up her boxes and bags.

Bert made sure the brake was set extra tight and rolled down the driver's window before offering to help the little girl up to the front seat.

Elizabeth was bound and determined to do everything herself and she declined his assistance with a polite "no, thank you, I can do it" and climbed in the car and on to the seat unaided. Bert stayed close, just in case she slipped, but she made her ascent without incident.

"You're a determined one, aren't you?" Bert commented, smiling at her as he closed the door. 'Just like your grandmother' he thought.

"Righto, young lady, here are your keys," he said and handed Elizabeth a set of old keys whose locks were long forgotten. She flashed a delighted smile at her co-conspirator before she turned her pretend car keys and Bert made the requisite pretend rumble of the engine turning over. When she had both small hands on the steering wheel he pulled a chamois out of his pocket and began the less important business of wiping the dust off the cab.

Elizabeth kept up a running commentary as she pretended to drive, describing where she was going, what she was seeing, whatever popped into her head. Bert smiled through a haze of cigarette smoke as he listened to her high sweet voice wafting through the open window. Not only was she a very determined and imaginative little girl, she was also very talkative. 'Just like your grandmother' he thought again.

Bert barely registered surprise when she pressed the horn – he had learned the hard way to keep his ears _away_ from the car during their game – but he politely reminded her to please refrain from using the horn unless it was an absolute emergency. "But a boy was going to run into the street!" she protested. "Oh, well, that's alright then," he replied indulgently.

There was enough play in the steering wheel for it to move back and forth slightly (but not nearly enough to cause the front wheels to budge) and Elizabeth was perfectly content with her game for another five minutes. She did _not_ press the horn again, but Bert heard an indignant observation or two about silly people who didn't pay attention to other cars on the road.

Bert was dusting the driver's door when Jane came to collect her daughter and relieve him. Elizabeth was so engrossed she didn't notice her mother's arrival and Jane put her finger to her lips in an appeal for Bert to stay silent for a moment. She had her camera with her and quickly centered Elizabeth in the viewfinder. She pressed the button a couple of times before Elizabeth caught sight of her and waved and smiled a happy, carefree smile at her mother. "Look at me mummy! I'm driving! Take a picture of me driving!" she exclaimed.

"I see you're driving," her mother replied, smiling in response. "Be an extra safe driver and put both hands on the steering wheel first, please." Jane waited until both little hands were back on the steering wheel and focused. "One, two," she counted, waiting until the blissful smile reappeared on Elizabeth's face, "three," and she snapped several pictures as quickly as she could. She had learned the hard way to take extra shots – Elizabeth was constantly in motion – and it was a challenge to get a not-blurry picture of her.

Jane secured the lens cover and said "Come on Lizzie, it's time to go inside. Lunch is ready."

That was Bert's cue. Before Elizabeth had a chance to protest, he opened the door and offered his hand to her like she was a grand lady. "Miss Elizabeth?" he asked. Elizabeth had learned the hard way getting out of the vehicle was more difficult than getting in – she had tumbled down once and scraped her hands and knees – so she held up both arms for him to lift her out of the cab.

"Thank you Bert," Jane said, smiling fondly at him as he carefully lowered his wiggling bundle to the footpath beside her. "There's lunch in the kitchen for you too."

"I'll be there in a few minutes," Bert replied as he straightened up slowly. He rubbed his back a little and watched Elizabeth take her mother's hand and skip to the front door. She turned and waved to him before she went inside. He waved back, and then, smiling to himself, he wiped all the little fingerprints off the steering wheel and the mirror and pocketed the pretend car keys until the next time.

xoxox

_A/N: I started with the ages listed in the ABC's Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries concept document and made a chart (yes, I'm a total nerd) of everyone's ages from 1890 (my guess when Jack was born) to the present day. In my stories, Jane was 30 when Elizabeth was born. Bert is in his early 60's in this chapter._


	2. Ch 2 - Nursery Rhymes

_Does anyone else have a box of loose photos you've never had the chance to put in albums? I keep thinking I should organize mine, but there's a lot of pleasure in pulling random pictures out of a box. It's almost like discovering lost treasures._

xoxox

_It's 1948 and Elizabeth is 3 years old. The photo in this chapter is also from The French Photograph._

Jane emerged from Phryne's darkroom at the end of the downstairs hall and saw Jack, with Elizabeth in his arms, walking in to his study. Elizabeth's arm was wrapped firmly around her grandfather's neck and she was explaining, in great detail, exactly which books she wanted to read. The timbre of her voice sounded a little hoarse, like she had been crying, but her words and tone sounded perfectly happy. Rather than distract them, Jane stood still for a moment and then went in search of her mother and an explanation.

She found Phryne upstairs, preparing for the evening. Even when she and Jack were dining in, Phryne regarded cocktails and dinner as an occasion to dress for and a ritual to savor and enjoy. She was clad in slip and shoes and stockings and was pulling a dress out of the wardrobe when Jane knocked and peeked in.

"I saw Jack and Lizzie a minute ago," Jane said. "She sounded like she had been crying. Is everything alright?"

Phryne smiled at her daughter. Occasionally Jane was a _little_ overprotective but Elizabeth cried so rarely Jane's concern was perfectly understandable. "It's nothing to worry about, just a little tumble. Elizabeth was running to meet Jack and she tripped and fell. Her knees weren't even grazed; they're just a little pink. Jack distracted her and now they're reading."

She had been standing at the front door and had seen the incident unfold. She gasped when Elizabeth fell but Jack was already comforting her and within just a minute or two Elizabeth had completely forgotten her knees and was recovering from the indignity of her fall. By the time he handed the little girl over to her so he could take off his overcoat and hat she was deciding which book to read. He returned her welcoming kiss and reclaimed his granddaughter.

Phryne stepped into her dress and eased it up with a little shimmy of her hips and slipped the straps over her shoulders. "Zip me up, would you Jane? Are you staying for dinner? You're more than welcome to, you know. We can put Elizabeth in the cot in your old room. Mr. Butler gave her supper before Jack came home."

"No, but thank you," Jane replied as she zipped the back of her mother's dress and the two of them admired the result reflected in the cheval mirror. "We need to go home very soon. A friend is coming by to go through the latest photos I took for her article."

"Let's go collect your little girl then," Phryne said as she smoothed her hair and dabbed perfume on her pulse points.

When they tiptoed up to the study door they could hear Jack finishing one rhyme and Elizabeth's voice telling him which one to read next. It was the same one they had read dozens of times and Elizabeth knew it so well she recited it with him as he read. Jack was endlessly patient with Elizabeth and she was endlessly eager with him. They were a perfect combination, really, and the two women smiled at each other as they listened to the exchanges between grandfather and granddaughter, his voice low and resonant, hers high and sweet.

Jane readied her camera and very quietly moved to the doorway so she could get a quick shot. Elizabeth was nestled in the curve of Jack's arm around her, looking up to him. She had her thumb in her mouth, a sure sign she was getting tired, but the sound of the shutter clicking caught her attention and she squirmed in Jack's lap to see her mother and grandmother at the open door.

"One more before we go home, Lizzie," Jane said, deftly averting the protest that was sure to follow if she didn't allow at least one more rhyme before Jack was relieved of his reading duties.

Elizabeth climbed down from her grandfather's lap and trotted to the bookcase and carefully examined the books on her shelf. She chose a book but instead of walking back to Jack she held the book up to Phryne and said "You read, please."

Phryne made a great show of accepting the request, her exaggerated response prompting giggles from Elizabeth and smiles from Jane and Jack. "_Me_? You want _me_ to read? Thank you, Elizabeth! I am _so _honored to be asked!"

Jack raised smiling eyebrows at Phryne and motioned her over to them as he lifted Elizabeth up to his lap and she settled back in his arms. Phryne stood behind the armchair and pressed a kiss on a round cheek and a kiss on a lean cheek before wrapping her arms around their shoulders.

The scene reminded Jane of the day Phryne found her and Jack sitting in the kitchen after an afternoon at the Botanic Gardens, a white orchid plant in the middle of the books and papers covering the table. Before she asked them what were they doing, where the orchid came from, and who wanted tea, Phryne had hugged them close with an arm around each and kissed their cheeks.

As Phryne read, Jane saw Jack lean in to her on one side and Elizabeth doing the same on the other side, both drawn to the vivacious woman between them like bees mesmerized by a fragrant flower.

'I was the luckiest girl in the world,' Jane thought as she centered the tableau in the viewfinder and the camera's shutter clicked again. 'And now it's Lizzie's turn.'

Jack's voice joined Phryne's for the last stanza and by the time they finished reading the luckiest little girl in the world was fast asleep, head lolling, limbs limp. Jack and Phryne looked down at Elizabeth, the fond smiles tugging their lips reflected in their eyes as they watched her breathe. But when they lifted their eyes from their granddaughter and held each other's gaze Jane knew they had forgotten anyone else was there. Again.

It was definitely time to go home. Right after she took one last picture.

Her parents blinked at the sound of the shutter and they gave each other a look Jane was fairly certain meant 'let's continue this as soon as we can.' Jack carefully redistributed the weight of the little girl in his arms before he rose from the chair and the three adults made their way to the entry hall. Jane gathered her handbag and an envelope of photographs, Phryne opened the front door, and Jack carried Elizabeth out to the cab where Bert was waiting. Jane kissed her parents good night and Jack waited until Jane was seated in the back before placing Elizabeth, still sleeping, on the seat beside her.

As Bert eased the cab away from the house Jane saw her parents slip their arms around each other's waist before they waved goodbye and went back inside to savor and enjoy the rest of the evening.

xoxox

_A/N: Jane is used to Jack and Phryne sometimes forgetting she's there and it doesn't bother her in the least. She has captured some really wonderful images of her parents completely enthralled with each other. _


	3. Ch 3 - Jane's First Roll of Film

_Thank you so much for your kind reviews of the first two chapters of this little story. Now that you know how the game works, I'll leave it to you to figure out which stories the photos in this chapter come from._

xoxox

_Mid-January 1930_

Jane was really very pleased with how the photographs she had taken over the Christmas holidays had turned out. When she got home from the developer's shop she spread them out on the dining room table so she could study them more closely, assess her fledgling technique, and generally enjoy the fruits of her labors with the camera Phryne gave her for Christmas.

Mr. Butler came in from the kitchen to look at them with her, and the two of them were commenting on the subjects and composition of each image when Jack and Phryne returned from having lunch together. Jane called to them as they pulled off their coats and hats. "Miss Phryne, Inspector!" she exclaimed, "you _must_ come see these!"

Phryne and Jack exchanged 'what is she talking about? I have no idea' looks before they saw what was covering the glossy surface of the table. "I picked up the holiday photos from the developer," Jane explained excitedly, "look how well most of them came out."

Mr. Butler excused himself and went back to the kitchen, leaving Jane to enjoy showing off her efforts to his mistress and the Inspector. At first glance, the two adults were impressed – Jane had steady hands and what looked like a real knack for catching compelling moments.

Jack chuckled at the image of Phryne in her nightgown and dressing gown, no makeup, hair mussed, sitting on the floor by the Christmas tree. "Were you so excited about opening presents you forgot to brush your hair?" he teased Phryne.

"I'm always excited about opening presents, Jack. You should know that by now," she teased him back before turning to Jane. "This was the only time I've ever allowed myself to be photographed looking like I just got out of bed. Now I know why."

"Obviously, this is the very first picture I took," Jane explained to Jack. "But you did just get out of bed …," she started to say before she saw the fond smile on her foster mother's face. "Well, you look beautiful in these with the Inspector," Jane said as she handed Phryne the two photos she had taken of them after they exchanged gifts at the police station on Christmas day.

Jane still didn't understand how two adults could have been so pleased about giving each other ribbons, but she was too excited to ponder the question for more than a second and she continued to the next photos on the table, those she took at Aunt Prudence's house, chattering about Arthur and Aunt P.

Most of what she said was unheard by Phryne and Jack, who lingered over the nearly identical images of themselves looking into each other's eyes, rapt. Phryne's hand was resting lightly on Jack's lapel, just over his heart, and their faces were mere inches apart. "I quite like these," Jack murmured in Phryne's ear. "I do too," she murmured back, her eyes dancing at the memory, "you gave me a _wonderful_ gift." "So did you," he reminded her and they linked fingers for a moment.

"These are from Boxing Day," Jane said, "I really like this one of Dot and Hugh." The young couple was sitting on a rug Mr. Butler had placed on the sand, and they were smiling at each other, looking like they had shared a private joke. Jane must have been taken it a few moments before Jack chose Hugh to be on his team for the impromptu cricket match.

"You took a lot of pictures at the beach, didn't you?" Phryne commented, surveying the table top. "Oh look Jack, here's one of you and Bert arguing over whose team was going to bat first," she quipped. "We weren't arguing, we were negotiating," Jack interjected. "Mmm hmmm," Phryne responded and she and Jane shared an amused look that said neither quite believed his explanation.

"This is a nice one of Arthur," Phryne said, picking up a photo of Arthur with his trousers rolled up, barefoot, standing just at the water's edge. He had a shell in his hand, a big one, and a delighted smile on his face. "We had a contest to see who could find the biggest seashell," Jane explained, "and he won."

There were other photos from Boxing Day – Mr. Butler poised and ready to bat, Aunt Prudence shading her eyes from the glare of the sun, taking her role as umpire very seriously, Mac tending to Phryne's ankle – and the three of them spent a few minutes reminiscing and laughing about the day and the match.

"Inspector, I tried to get one of you running with Miss Phryne in your arms, but you were moving too fast and it's blurry. I did get another nice one of the two of you, though. You're easy to photograph when you're staring at each other because you both stay so still," she teased, handing Jack the last photo.

Jack took a long look at the photo before he gave it to Phryne. Jane had captured the exact moment he started to caress Phryne's jaw after he had tucked her hair behind her ear. Even though Jane had been some distance away, and Jack's back was to the camera, the affection in his touch was evident and the returned affection in Phryne's eyes and soft smile was just as clear. They stood close, looking at the photograph, not even noticing when Jane started picking up the photos from the table.

Jane cleared her throat to get their attention. Honestly, sometimes these two were oblivious to what was going on around them. She had an amusing thought it would be funny to take a picture of them looking at a picture of themselves, but her camera was still in her bag and Phryne was startled out of her reverie before she could get to it. "These really are very good, Jane," she said. "I think getting you another camera was one of my better ideas."

"I think it was too," Jane responded excitedly. "I wanted to get two sets of prints made, so I can keep one of every photograph I take, but I didn't have enough money. I'll have to wait until next week to get duplicates made."

"By then you'll have taken even more photos, won't you?" Phryne asked, and Jane nodded matter-of-factly. "I'm already more than halfway through the next roll of film," Jane said, cocking her head and counting on her fingers as she talked. "It has the group picture you asked me to take at your Twelfth Night party plus two or three of the Christmas tree and some others where I was trying different things."

"I'd like to keep the two photos at the police station and this one at the beach," Phryne said, "and I'm sure Dot and Mr. Butler and Arthur would like copies of theirs too. It's quite handy having you supply us with photos Jane, and I think you need an increase in your pocket money to cover the cost of developing duplicates. What do you think?"

Jane's response was a couple of quick, delighted little nods. "I told you I was going to be our new family photographer, didn't I?" she reminded Phryne, smiling as she gathered up the remaining photos from the table. She shuffled them into chronological order and disappeared into the kitchen to give Mr. Butler his photograph.

As soon as Jane was gone Jack slipped his arms around Phryne's waist and pulled her close so he could look over her shoulder at the photos she held. The two scenes perfectly captured the breadth of their feelings – the first hinted at the depths of their desire for each other and the second hinted at the depths of their love for each other. Each had seen the looks, many, many times, on the other's face but it was quite a revelation to see the looks on their own faces.

"These are _very_ good photographs, Miss Fisher," Jack murmured as he nuzzled Phryne's neck.

Phryne leaned back and arched her neck, enjoying the nuzzling very much. "Now do you see the method to my madness, Inspector?" she asked.

"You mean giving Jane another camera after she dropped her first one overboard and borrowed yours without asking? I do see it," he agreed, and he plucked the beach photo and one of the station photos from her fingers and tucked them in his pocket. "In fact, I would like to keep these two as proof of it, if you don't mind."

"Jack, is it fair you now have three photographs of me and I only have one of you?"

"Three?" Jack asked in between nuzzles.

She turned in his arms and smiled up to him. "These two plus the other one you had in your pocket months ago." Before he could react she slipped her fingers in the inside breast pocket of his jacket. "Aha! You do still carry it with you," she crowed triumphantly.

Jack gently extricated the photo from her fingers and put it back where it belonged. "Mmmm. All's fair in love and …," he started to answer but decided to kiss her instead.

"Photographs?" she asked before returning his kiss. "Don't think I've forgotten about the photographs you still haven't shown me, Jack. One of these days, soon, I want to see them. And I want to know why you chose the one you have in your pocket."

"One of these days I'll tell you," he answered, "until then, it will just have to remain a mystery." He managed to distract her from photographs and mysteries, at least for the moment, by paying very thorough attention to the other side of her neck.


	4. Ch 4 - Phryne's Mug Shots

_More fluff, because the fluff level in real life is severely deficient this week. _

xoxox

_February 1930_

It was already the beginning of February and Phryne still hadn't had a chance to invite Iris Parsons to dinner or lunch or tea. The young woman interested her greatly, and not just because she had done such a good job on her birthday presents. Phryne was always interested in people who had creative gifts. No, Iris seemed to be a rather independent young woman, perhaps even modern, and Phryne was very much interested in knowing modern-thinking women, regardless of their age.

When they finally talked on the telephone, Phryne learned Iris worked for several galleries preparing for exhibitions. So between classes and work, Iris' schedule was very tight. But Iris very much wanted to see Miss Fisher's Margaret Preston painting in person, and from what little she knew, Miss Fisher promised to be a very interesting woman.

Between them they settled on tea the next Sunday afternoon.

xoxox

Iris was unprepared for the visual feast that was Phryne Fisher's home. Every wall was adorned with an oil painting or a drawing or a watercolor. There were vases and figurines and other objets d'art atop most flat surfaces. Iris thought it was more than a little surreal to see her watercolor hanging in the same room as a Margaret Preston.

She was even more amazed when she learned Miss Fisher liked to rotate paintings and decorative pieces throughout the year to keep them fresh and interesting. Iris wondered just how many more works were stashed in a safe place waiting their turn in the spotlight but she couldn't think of a polite way to ask.

Every piece had a story behind it too, and Iris listened in rapt attention as Phryne recounted how she had acquired the Margaret Preston painting in the course of helping to clear the name of a wrongly accused woman, decipher a clue to create artificial rubber, and solve two murders. Iris decided this visit was most definitely worth the time away from her sketchpad and easel.

xoxox

Jack and Jane joined Phryne and Iris for tea, which became a lighthearted affair with Iris entertaining them with tales of her professors at the National Gallery School and Jane and Iris comparing school stories. Jack and Phryne occasionally added an anecdote about their school days, but they were mostly content to listen to the two young women converse. It was fascinating to get glimpses of Jane's boarding school life they weren't usually privy to.

"You probably don't read Women's Choice magazine, Iris," Phryne said to Iris, "but Georgina Charlesworth, the owner and editor, was one of my teachers. In fact, she was the reason I was able to stay in school as long as I did. I don't know how she convinced my father – I think she must have told him I'd be less trouble for him if I spent most of my days with her."

Jane thought about that bit of information about her foster mother for a minute while the laughter and conversation swirled around her. She and Miss Phryne came from far more similar circumstances than Iris and the Inspector and not for the first time, or even the tenth, Jane thanked her lucky stars The Honorable Miss Phryne Fisher had taken her under her wing. She resolved to do her best to make Miss Phryne glad of giving her advantages she would never have had otherwise.

Iris also noted that particular bit of information. Of course she knew a little of Miss Fisher's background and upbringing from her conversations with Inspector Robinson. But there was something quite remarkable about Miss Fisher's ability to rise above the circumstances of her past and Iris had the unmistakable feeling she would have done so regardless of her father inheriting a title and a fortune. Even though Iris came from a much more stable childhood than her hostess, she decided Miss Fisher was definitely someone she could look up to.

Iris was interrupted from her thoughts about admiring Miss Fisher when Phryne again complimented her on the work she had done for Jack. "You really captured the sense of fun and excitement we always felt when we played that game," she told Iris.

"Your expression was easy, Miss Fisher," Iris replied, "since I could refer to the photographs the Inspector had."

"Oooh," Phryne said, "the mysterious police photographs." She turned to Jack, who was sitting beside her on the loveseat, and cocked a mock-stern brow at him. "The photographs I _still _haven't seen," she reminded him.

Jack made a great show of carefully setting his cup on its saucer and wiping his fingers on his napkin before reaching inside his jacket pocket and withdrawing a small envelope. He handed it to Phryne with a smile, but glanced at Iris to say, "When Miss Fisher told me you were coming I knew I had to bring these with me. I would never hear the end of it otherwise."

A delighted grin from Phryne was his thanks. She was _finally_ going to see the photos Hugh took all those months ago. She knew they would be silly and how she looked in them was not important in the least. She was far more interested in learning when and why a particular photo made its way into Jack's pocket. She wiggled her shoulders in excitement as she opened the envelope and withdrew the contents.

xoxox

Jane looked over Phryne's shoulder to see the photos and then went back to chatting with Iris about the look on Phryne's face when she opened her birthday presents. Jack watched fondly while Phryne studied the photographs.

"Why did you keep that one, Jack?" Phryne asked, tilting her head in the direction of his heart.

The photo he kept in his breast pocket was the silliest of all of them. It showed her standing against the column, hands on either side of her face, thumbs and forefingers forming goggles.

Jack shrugged his shoulders as if it should have been obvious. "It made me happy, Phryne."

"Happy, Jack?" she asked, raising an eyebrow in return.

The smile tugging at the corners of his lips broadened when he answered. "Yes. You were being completely silly and it made me happy."

Phryne fluttered her lashes at him playfully. "When did you put it in your pocket?" she asked.

He still loved teasing her so he pretended he had to think hard to remember. "Hmmm. Just before you went to Maiden Creek on holiday."

"That's two of the three mysteries solved," she teased back.

"Three mysteries?" he asked.

Phryne ticked off on her fingers as she spoke. "First, _why_ you chose that photo. Second, _when_ you decided to keep it in your pocket instead of your desk drawer. And third, _why then_?"

"I knew I wouldn't see you for several days," he replied, "and by then I knew how much I would miss you."

She had told him before, but it bore repeating. Her smile was sweet and loving and not the least bit silly when she squeezed his hand. "I was so glad to see you," she said.

xoxox

Iris was on her way home, Jane was on her way back to school, and Jack was preparing to leave too. He and Phryne were alone in the entry hall and Phryne slipped her arms around his waist. "That was fun," she said, snuggling in under suit jacket and overcoat.

"There's a photo Hugh didn't take," Jack said, his voice trailing off as he held her close.

"Oh?" she said.

"Mmmm. I could only see you had your arms up and your palms flat against the column. There aren't any columns in this house, are there?" he murmured against her hair.

Phryne had a good idea of the pose he was talking about.

"No columns, Jack," she answered, and slipped away from him. She stood against the dining room door jamb and recreated the pose, complete with cocked hip and seductive half-smile. "But I'm sure we could improvise."

"That pose is even better than I imagined," Jack said appreciatively.

xoxox

_Present day_

When Elizabeth answered the telephone she barely had a chance to finish saying "Hello" before her daughter interrupted.

"Mum, I found some more photos of Phryne!" Jacqueline sounded almost triumphant.

"Really?" Elizabeth thought she knew all of the photos she'd given her daughter. This _was_ exciting news. "Where were they?"

"They were in a little envelope tucked in the bundle of Jack's notes! Do you remember you told me to read Phryne and Jack's notes when I had time to savor them?"

"Yes. Because they're …"

"They're loving and sweet. Some of them are downright provocative, too. Listen to this one," Jacqueline was smiling as she read, "Seeing you in that pose was like a dream come true."

"Well, even as a little girl I knew they had a special relationship," Elizabeth commented. "When I read their notes I realized it was very, _very_ special."

"I'll say," her daughter replied. "They must have had quite an active physical relationship, if these notes are any indication." She stopped and thought for a second. "Wait, are we seriously talking about my great-grandparents' sex life?"

"You were the one who brought it up, Jackie," Elizabeth answered, laughing. "Now tell me about these photos you found."

"As I said, they were in an envelope in Jack's bundle. Phryne isn't wearing her wedding band, so they must have been taken in the late 20's?"

"Hmmm. Let's see … they married in 1930 ..." Elizabeth thought for a second. "Yes, that's right. Phryne was 28 when she returned to Melbourne. She met Jack a just few days after she arrived and they met my mother very soon after that."

"Anyhow, it looks like these were taken at the police station because she's in front of a column with height markings and it looks like they were a joke because she's in all sorts of silly poses. There's one where she's holding her hand like a gun. In this one … oops, phone slipped … in this one she's in a sort of sexy pose with her hands on either side of her head, this one she's in a sideways Egyptian sort of pose, and this one …"

"Yes?" Elizabeth prompted expectantly.

"What's funny is all of the photos are in really good condition except …," Jacqueline continued.

"What's wrong with it?" Elizabeth asked.

"There's nothing wrong with it," Jacqueline answered quickly. "It's just a little dog-eared. It's a picture of Phryne making goggles with her fingers."

"Oh my goodness," Elizabeth laughed, "that's the photo Jack always kept in his suit pocket."

"What?" her daughter exclaimed. "Of all of the dozens and dozens of beautiful photos of Phryne, Jack kept this one?"

"Phryne used to tease him about it occasionally. He always said something about it making him happy. I don't recall ever seeing the others you found, though."

"Well, you could easily have missed one envelope. They wrote _a lot_ of notes to each other over the years," Jacqueline said.

"Yes, judging from their notes, they were very happy together," Elizabeth replied.

"Now who's bringing up their sex life?" Jacqueline quipped.

xoxox

_A/N: In my imaginary world, Phryne and Jack's intimate relationship finally began after they returned from Maiden Creek; if not right after the hat scene then very soon after._

_The ABC's MFMM concept document says Jane was a boarder at Warleigh Grammar. I imagine she spends some weekends at school and some weekends at Phryne's house. Naturally Phryne and Jack are more circumspect in their activities on the weekends Jane is in the house._


	5. Ch 5 - Rosie's Photo

_Thanks so much to all of you for reading and commenting. _

xoxox

_April 1930_

The defense for Sidney Fletcher decided discrediting Detective Inspector Jack Robinson's character by means of his former wife's testimony was the first item on the day's agenda. And if he could discredit Rosie Sanderson at the same time, well, that would be an added bonus. He thought he would have an easy time of it – in his opinion Rosie Sanderson looked pale and fragile and nervous at the prospect of being questioned by a distinguished KC.

He was right on one count. Rosie Sanderson _was_ pale but he soon discovered she was neither fragile nor nervous.

"Miss Sanderson, were Detective Inspector Robinson and your father, the Acting Chief Commissioner, close? Surely family dinners, shared holidays …"

"No, they weren't close at all. To the best of my knowledge Jack and my father did not speak personally for many years."

"Define many years, please. Your divorce is relatively recent."

"Our divorce is relatively recent. We lived apart for several years before we decided to divorce. Before that, my father and my former husband had a falling out."

"That's right. Your husband disobeyed orders and joined the police strike, didn't he?"

"Yes."

"Not a particularly wise thing to do."

"Jack did what he thought was right. My father disagreed with his decision."

"And what about you, Miss Sanderson? Did you disagree with his decision?"

"I did at the time."

Thinking his initial feint had succeeded, he prepared to draw first blood. "Is that the reason you divorced Inspector Robinson? Or did it have to do with Inspector Robinson's involvement with another woman?"

Rosie's voice was steady. "No. Jack and I divorced because we were not a good match. We chose desertion because the options are ridiculously limited."

"Not adultery? You didn't divorce him because of another woman? Your husband spent a lot of time with Miss Phryne Fisher while you were still married, did he not?"

"I have no idea how much time he spent with Miss Fisher. But Jack would never be unfaithful. If you think he could be you know absolutely nothing about him."

"How could you possibly know that? You've already told us you lived apart for several years."

Rosie resented this man's attempts to pry into something he could never understand, but her voice remained steady. "I have no doubt many men are capable of being unfaithful while they profess to be happily married." She looked around the courtroom. "I'm sure there are men like that in this very room. Perhaps you're even one of them." She paused for a moment to let _that_ sink in. "Jack is not capable of that kind of deceit. It isn't in his nature."

"So he wasn't involved with Miss Fisher then. He is now, by all accounts. What do you think of that?"

"Jack is a grown man, with no encumbrances, who has every right to be involved with whomever he wishes to be involved with."

"Even someone with, shall we say, as flamboyant a past as Miss Fisher?"

"Miss Fisher helped rescue those girls. Girls who were kidnapped to be sold into slavery. Girls who in other circumstances could have been your daughters. I'd say that says more about her character than her past, wouldn't you?"

Rosie's parry proved successful and the defense decided to concentrate on discrediting her instead of her former husband.

"And what about you, Miss Sanderson? How much did you know about your fiancé's business?

"The Fletcher family business is an established concern. I had no reason to know anything more about it than you or anyone else in this room."

"But you've known Sidney Fletcher for many years, have you not?"

"Yes."

"He is, in fact, your father's godson?"

"Yes."

"Hmmm. So quite a close connection, then. It's hard to believe you wouldn't be aware of something untoward going on."

Rosie Sanderson had had quite enough of this pompous man's innuendo. Her voice remained steady but now there was an added edge of disgust. "Had I known the man I was engaged to was participating in such a _filthy, abhorrent_ undertaking I would have reported him to Jack Robinson myself. Had I known _my father _was abetting _anyone_ in such a filthy, abhorrent undertaking I would have reported him to Jack Robinson myself. And I would have helped in any way I could to stop them and bring them to justice.

As for Sidney Fletcher being my father's godson, I'd say they have thoroughly polluted the very purpose of the relationship, wouldn't you? I hope they both burn in hell for what they've done."

Judging from the collective intake of breath in the courtroom, her counter-attack was stunningly successful. The defense for Sidney Fletcher retreated with no further questions for Rosie Sanderson.

The equally distinguished KC who was defending George Sanderson chose not to ask Rosie Sanderson to testify at her father's trial. And, despite their best efforts, neither defense could prove Detective Inspector Jack Robinson had any prior knowledge, personal or professional, of either of the defendants' illegal activities.

xoxox

Publicly the Victoria police was quite proud of providing incontrovertible evidence for the Crown to convict Fletcher and Sanderson and restore public confidence in the police force. Internally, an investigation turned up no evidence Jack Robinson had any prior knowledge, personal or professional, of either of the defendants' illegal activities. He was, however, soundly scolded by the newest Chief Commissioner for allowing civilians to become involved in the raid on the Pandarus. But he was not officially reprimanded because the civilians had helped the honest police presence at the scene, all two of them initially, capture the criminals and rescue the girls. All in all, it could have been a lot worse.

xoxox

A few days after Sidney Fletcher and George Sanderson were sentenced Hugh Collins showed Rosie Sanderson into Jack's office and closed the door behind him. Rosie declined Jack's offer of the visitor's chair so he remained standing beside his desk.

Rosie didn't waste time on pleasantries. "Jack, I'm going to England, to my mother's family. I can't see myself returning to Australia any time in the foreseeable future."

Jack was stunned at what Rosie was saying. First, she was leaving the country. Second, she probably wasn't coming back.

He opened his mouth to say what, he didn't know, but he was saved from making a suitable response because Rosie continued talking. "When I was going through my things I found something I wanted to return to you."

"Rosie, how can you afford to …" It came out before Jack realized it really wasn't any of his business anymore.

She let out a huff of breath. "Jack, money is the one thing I finally have plenty of. Somehow Father managed to see to it my sister and I received our inheritances from him before he was sentenced."

Jack raised an eyebrow but he wasn't really surprised – he'd seen plenty of evidence of money opening doors and smoothing the way, even after people were behind bars.

"I also inherited money from my mother's estate when I turned thirty-five. Do you remember we couldn't imagine ever being that old?"

They were lost in thought for a moment, trying to remember being so young to think thirty-five was old, until Rosie gave herself a tiny shake and brought them back to the present.

"I want you to have the photograph you sent me from France. At some point you may have children and they might want to know what their father looked like as a young man who fought for King and country.

"Rosie…"

"It could happen Jack. Just because we couldn't have children doesn't mean you can't with someone else. You're young enough. You're handsome. You could easily find someone new if you wanted to."

Jack thought at the very least she deserved to hear the truth. From him. "Rosie. You need to know Miss Fisher and I…"

"You're in love with her and you have been for months." Rosie interjected.

Jack acknowledged Rosie's statement with a simple nod.

"And is she in love with you?" Rosie asked.

Jack nodded again. There were days when he still didn't quite believe he was so lucky, but Phryne said it and he believed her.

Rosie decided she really didn't have anything to say about Phryne Fisher. Amazingly, any animosity she felt toward the woman had dissipated as she spoke the words "Miss Fisher helped save those girls. I think that says more about her character than her past" in court. Rosie realized she didn't have the time or the energy for anything but taking care of herself because no one else was going to do it for her. Rosie had enough money to do what she wanted and she was old enough to do what she wanted.

She let out a breath. "I sail Monday morning. I'm going to spend a few months in England and then I think I'll travel. I've always wanted to go on my own grand tour." Her voice was steady when she said "Good bye, Jack" and reached out to squeeze his hand.

Jack's managed a small smile. "Good bye Rosie. I wish only the best for you."

Rosie handed Jack an envelope. "The French photograph is in the envelope. Good luck, Jack."

Then she turned and walked out of her former husband's office for the last time.

_To be continued _


	6. Ch 6 - Jack's Photo

_Thank you so much for your generous and thoughtful comments on the previous chapter. _

_This chapter is a continuation of the previous chapter. In many ways it is also the culmination of all of my stories._

xoxox

_Later that day_

"She gave me this photograph before she left my office." Jack handed the envelope to Phryne.

When Phryne pulled the photograph out of the envelope she let out a tiny gasp and sank into an armchair. Jack was wearing his army uniform, facing the photographer with the serious expression he usually wore when she first met him. Wherever he was in France when this photograph was taken, he was probably only there for a brief respite before being sent back to the hell he'd come from or sent on to a new hell. When she looked closer she recognized the faraway look of someone who had seen too much and felt too much and being back in relative civilization was overwhelming.

Jack was _so_ young, Phryne thought as she continued to study the photograph, and his whole life with Rosie was still ahead of him if he could only get home to her. This serious young man had no idea they would never, could never, be the same when he finally did get home. He had no idea how the next dozen years would unfold and her heart nearly shattered into a hundred pieces thinking about how much he, and tens of thousands like him, had lost.

She felt the sting of tears rising and blinked furiously to tame them. To further distract herself from her tears, Phryne rose and poured drinks for both of them and handed one to Jack.

"Thank you," he said quietly and sat down. The trials and the internal investigation had taken a toll and he was feeling weary. He took a sip and closed his eyes for a moment.

When Jack opened his eyes he caught Phryne's free hand and gently guided her back to him, widening the arc of his arm in a silent request for her to sit in his lap. Right now he needed her solid warmth in his arms, needed her soft hair under his cheek, needed her heartbeat against his chest.

"It sounds like Rosie is beginning to recover from Fletcher's and her father's treachery. I'm so relieved for her," Phryne said quietly as she settled in Jack's lap. She _was_ relieved Rosie found the strength to begin again and had the financial resources to do so with dignity. She would not have wished what happened to Rosie on any woman.

"I am too," Jack replied, thinking back to Rosie's demeanor in the courtroom. Fletcher's defense had mistakenly thought he could undermine the Crown's case by flustering her on the witness stand. Jack was proud of how she refused to be baited and unflinchingly condemned Fletcher's and her father's actions. Now she was going to make a new life for herself. He barely knew her any more – his Rosie could never have done any of those things.

He realized with a start one part of his life was finally, irrevocably, over and for a moment he felt unutterably sad at its passing. Then a palpable sense of gladness washed over him that the rest of his life, full of possibility and promise, stretched ahead of him. He tightened his hold on the woman in his arms, his future, and breathed a sigh of relief and silent thanks.

Phryne breathed her own sigh of relief and silent thanks. Everything they had been waiting for – the trials, the internal investigation, Rosie's future – was settled and the huge cloud of uncertainty that had hung over them had finally dissipated. Her own future, one she had never imagined was possible, with a man she never dreamed she would find, started now.

They remained nestled in each other's embrace until the light outside started to fade.

xoxox

"What are they doing in there, Mr. Butler? Is something wrong?" Jane was getting worried. "They're just sitting in the dark."

"I don't know, Jane," Mr. Butler admitted. "I suspect it has something to do with the Sanderson case. Why don't you turn on one of the small lamps in the dining room and set the table for dinner. Quietly."

The sound of china and cutlery being placed on the table, however quietly, was loud enough to filter through to the parlor and break the spell. Jack pulled Phryne very close for a moment and released her. She pressed a soft kiss to his lips and then rose and turned on two small lamps.

They blinked at the light and held the other's gaze until Jane's appearance in the doorway of the parlor caught their attention. She looked hesitant to interrupt them but she also looked concerned.

"Jane!" Phryne said softly, smiling at her foster daughter.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, but Mr. Butler says dinner will be ready in a few minutes." Jane caught sight of the photograph on the small table and she took a step into the parlor before she realized she _was_ disturbing them.

Jack noticed Jane's glance at the photo and he rose from the chair and handed it to her. "Rosie returned this to me. She said if I ever had children they might want to see it."

Jane's eyes widened as she realized it was _him_ in the photograph.

"You've hardly changed at all!" she exclaimed. "That's the same expression you always have on your face." She looked up at Jack and back to the photograph, comparing the past with the present. "Well, you smile more now."

Phryne was struck by the thought Jane had no idea Jack was probably nearly incapable of smiling when the photo was taken. She fervently hoped Jane would never receive a similar photograph, but she was distracted from her thoughts by Jane's next words.

Jane's excitement at seeing Jack as a young man faded as his words sank in. "But you don't have children," she said, barging into a potentially sensitive area. "Oh. Sorry. I didn't mean to …"

Jack glanced at Phryne, his eyebrow cocked in query. Phryne nodded and took over.

"Jane, Jack and I are getting married. You're the very first person we've told."

A multitude of expressions passed over Jane's face while her foster mother's words registered in her brain.

"What?" Jane's voice was a full octave higher than usual. "When did you decide this?"

This time Phryne glanced at Jack, _her_ eyebrow cocked in query and Jack nodded and took over.

"Christmas-time. Christmas ni..., ummm, night actually."

"It's _April_ now and you've kept this to yourselves all this time?" Nearly a year ago Jack was honest with her about having keys to the house and how he felt about Phryne. He had enlisted her help with his surprise waltz at Phryne's birthday party. On Christmas Day Phryne was candid when she asked when and how she knew she was in love with Jack. Jane thought they trusted her.

Jane's voice climbed another half-octave and settled on a note of righteous indignation. "How could you not tell me?"

Before Jack or Phryne could get a word in edgewise to explain their reasons Jane voiced the next thought that came to mind. She looked stunned as soon as she said it.

"Since you're my foster mother, does this mean you'll be my foster father?" She stared at Jack, then at Phryne. The indignation was gone and her voice wavered as it reached its highest limit. "Will you? Is that what it means?"

By this point Jack looked almost as stunned as Jane. Not at the prospect of being a father of sorts – he and Phryne had discussed that at length and they agreed Jane should take the lead in deciding his role in her life – he just hadn't anticipated the crescendo of Jane's reactions or the trickle of tears that started as soon as she finished talking. This version of Jane was an entirely new experience for him.

Phryne succeeded in hiding her amusement at the vaguely terrified look in Jack's eyes, but she was almost as surprised at Jane's reaction as he was and rushed to comfort her.

Mr. Butler stopped short at the door from the dining room to the entry hall and surveyed the group in the parlor. The three of them were standing in the middle of the room, huddled in a tight knot. Jane was sniffling, his mistress was rubbing soothing circles on her back, and the Inspector was pulling his handkerchief out of his pocket.

Thinking dinner would have to wait a few more minutes, Mr. Butler was just about to retreat back to the kitchen when he saw Jane fling her arms around the Inspector's neck. She was holding something in one of her hands. Mr. Butler couldn't be sure, but from where he stood it looked like a photograph of a young man in an army uniform.

xoxox

Jane was feeling quite giddy – the effects of the tiny celebratory glass of wine she had been allowed at dinner compounded with exciting news– and she thought she had a brilliant idea. "We should telephone Aunt Prudence and Arthur right now and tell them," she said excitedly.

Jack and Phryne exchanged a look and shook their heads in unison. Phryne did not want to spend thirty minutes on the telephone tonight only to have Mrs. Stanley take up residence in the parlor tomorrow until everything was explained to her satisfaction.

"I don't think so, Jane," Phryne said. "Jack and I will tell everyone who needs to know in the coming weeks. Until then we'll limit the number of people who know our news to you and Mr. Butler."

Jane was terribly disappointed at having to keep this news to herself but recovered quickly when she had another brilliant idea and asked to be excused for a moment.

She disappeared into the kitchen and came back a minute later with Mr. Butler who was holding her camera. She had told him exactly what she wanted him to do and he was already looking in the viewfinder waiting for her to stand between Jack's and Phryne's chairs. He pressed the button just after she put an arm around each of them and the two adults looked up to her at their sides.

Then Dot and Hugh's voices filtered in from the kitchen and Jane's brows shot up in a silent, hopeful appeal.

Jack and Phryne exchanged another look and Jane was once again amazed at their ability to have an entire conversation without saying a word. "Alright, we'll tell Dot and Hugh," Phryne said.

xoxox

Jane caught up with Jack as he was getting ready to return home Sunday afternoon. "Oh good, you're still here," she said. "There's something I want to ask you."

Jack wasn't quite sure what to expect. He was fairly certain they were well past tears and indignation but all the same he had to resist the urge to look around for Phryne. Surprisingly, she was not standing by to say good-bye and blow a kiss to him when he reached the front gate.

Jane paused, suddenly shy now the moment was upon her. Once her thoughts were collected, they came out in a rush. "What should I call you? It would be sort of silly for me to keep calling you Inspector after you and Miss Phryne get married, wouldn't it?"

Jack felt his shoulders relax. He thought about the options, but the answer was obvious, really.

"It's up to you Jane," he replied. "You can call me Jack if you like."

"Because that's what everyone else in your family calls you?" she guessed, smiling. "I'll need to practice though, since I've only ever called you Inspector. May I start now?" Her smile turned to a grin when he smiled and nodded his assent.

A flutter of movement caught his eye and Jane followed his gaze to the dining room door where Phryne was smiling at them as she pressed the button on Jane's camera.

"Between the two of us we're going to be taking a lot of photos," Phryne said to Jane, handing her the camera. "I think I'll turn the little box room at the end of the hall into a darkroom so we can develop them ourselves."

Jane's reaction was delight, as Phryne knew it would be, but she needed a moment with Jack alone. "Would you excuse us please, Jane?" she asked politely. Jane started toward the kitchen but turned around and said "Bye, Insp… Jack" and grinned at him before she left them to themselves.

Phryne turned to Jack with a fond twinkle in her eye. "I also think I will make a new study for myself in the spare room next to the box room," she said as she fiddled with his already straight tie. "It will be very convenient for me and you can take over my old study." His tie now straightened to her liking, Phryne draped her arms over Jack's shoulders and looked up to him. "What do you think about my idea, Inspector?"

Jack gathered Phryne in his arms and studied her lovely face lifted to him, marveling at the love and affection he saw there. Her bright eyes told him she understood he would need a refuge of his own in this busy household. Her soft smile told him she was ready to begin their new life together. He was ready too. "I love your idea, Miss Fisher, more than I can possibly tell you."

xoxox

_A/N: Voilà. I think the French photograph has done its job binding this new family together and forging a link to the next three generations. I'm going to let it have a well-deserved rest now._

_Phryne and Jack having separate studies is not an original idea. Other authors have broached the subject of Phryne and Jack needing their own space and I wholeheartedly agree: I recently regained my space and the relief of not having to carry my laptop around the house looking for a quiet spot was almost overwhelming. _


End file.
